


Property Value

by Thighz



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Explicit Language, Jack's a show off, Kinda, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Shower Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 03:55:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13673757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thighz/pseuds/Thighz
Summary: Gabriel spent the better part of six months observing Watchpoint Construction as they built the ridiculous home of one John Morrison. Or at least, that’s what his agent told him when he called to complain about the massive house now in the way of half his viewing scope of the mountain range.The property value on Gabe's house just went down, but he learns to live with it.





	Property Value

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank Crook for posting **[this](https://twitter.com/strangefingers/status/963465414574407681)** masterpiece of architecture. And Kerri for opening the can of worms.
> 
>  
> 
> This isn't the weirdest thing I've ever written, but it's definitely up there. 
> 
> **Please Heed Tag Warnings:** There is a lot of voyeurism set up here, kinda like a bad porno. You have been warned.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gabriel spent the better part of six months observing Watchpoint Construction as they built the ridiculous home of one John Morrison. Or at least, that’s what his agent told him when he called to complain about the massive house now in the way of half his viewing scope of the mountain range.

Gabe had scowled through his double windows as a pretty stained fence went up a foot shy of his property line. As the frame was built and the blueprints were poured over and the bottom half dropped into the ground and the top half boasted a beautiful balcony. Complete with a damn jacuzzi.

His once scenic view out of the west side of his house was now nothing but a strange mass of architecture. The whole back half of the house was floor to ceiling glass, and he hopes this ‘John’ hired someone to handle all the  _ prints _ that would end up coating it.

There were a few other windows scattered on Gabe’s side. Most of them small. Probably because he couldn’t afford any bigger windows after he turned the rear part of the house into one giant viewing screen.

So now, six months later, Gabe has this atrocious house blocking his favorite view. Not to say that he can’t walk out the back door and find another view, but it’s cold outside and he wants to enjoy his coffee and look out the large windows from the warmth of his goddamn kitchen.

But nooooooo.

Gabe now has to re-negotiate property value if he ever decides to sell his house.

He pads into his kitchen, dressed in nothing but his lazy pants, and inhales the rich aroma of his pre-brewed coffee. It’ll be another hour or two before he needs to drive to work, so he takes his time swirling the sugar around and pouring the cream.

He’s turning to face his big kitchen windows out of pure habit alone, raising his mug to his mouth to take a tentative sip when he sputters and burns his tongue.

A hiss escapes him as he jerks the mug away, but his eyes are glued straight ahead.

Not at the offending house in the way of his mountains, but at the strategically placed window directly across from him.

Where a very wet, very  _ naked _ man is taking a shower.

He’s tall, taller than Gabe probably. With wide, pale shoulders and big hands rubbing soap over a set of massive pecs. He’s blonde. A blinding, yellow blonde and it scatters down his chest to disappear into a thatch of equally blonde curls at his groin.

Gabe swallows.

He should probably step away. Go have his coffee on the balcony where there is fresh air.  _ Cold air. _

But he’s still watching as his new neighbor washes his hair and then his pits. He’s thorough, like he has no problem taking his time to get as clean as can be. Gabe can respect a man who keeps his hygiene impeccable.

Except then Jack’s hand dips down to his groin to wash. Is just as precise as he was with the rest of his body, but he doesn’t stop. He puts one hand against the base of the shower head, wraps the other around his cock, and starts a slow, soapy early morning jerk-off session.

And yep. This is where Gabe should leave. His coffee will get cold - He’ll -

The blonde bites into his lower lip. His shoulders bunch up and his fist moves quick and fast between his legs. Gabe can only see the rosy head of it, but it’s enough. It’s enough to set his blood on fire and cause his own cock to thicken behind his pants.

His neighbors mouth gasps open and the hand on the wall curls into as fist as he comes. Gabe lets out a sympathetic groan.

He beats a hasty retreat after that. His coffee goes down the drain, he’ll grab another on the way to work, and he beelines for his bedroom to get dressed. He tosses his clothes around and shoves his feet into his shoes, irritated and horny.

Who has a goddamn window in their bathroom?

  
  


-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

  
  


John ‘Call me Jack’ Morrison has a dog.

Gabe learns this when he gets home from work and there’s a friendly, lopsided tongue and a golden head poking over the edge of the stained fence.

His neighbor is clipping the bushes lining the front of the house, dressed in ripped jeans and a green hoodie. He turns when the dog gives a happy bark at seeing Gabe step off of his bike.

A smile lights up that gorgeous, sharp face and Jack waves, “Hi neighbor!”

Gabe recoils at the cheerfulness, “Hi.” He gives a half-hearted wave and sets his helmet under one arm.

Jack walks across the yard and ruffles the retrievers head, “This is Jesse.” The dog gives a triumphant bark at hearing his name.

Gabe scratches under the pups chin and chuckles, “Nice to meet you.”

“We haven’t gotten a chance to properly meet.” Jack sticks his gloved hand over the fence, “I’m Jack Morrison.”

Gabe takes the hand with a lifted brow, “They said John when I asked.”

Jack waves a hand, “I was named after my dad. Everyone calls me Jack.”

“Gabriel.” Gabe replies, “Reyes. Gabe for short.”

“Nice to meet you Gabe.” Jack leans into the fence with his forearms, smile still bright and the blue of his eyes even brighter, “Hope they didn’t disturb you while the house was being built.”

The only disturbing done was the huge-ass monstrosity lowering the value of his ‘scenic view’ home. Except Gabe doesn’t say that, because Jack bought the property fair and square.

“You too.” He jerks a thumb at his house, “It’s been a long day. Gonna head in.”

“Sure.” Jack pushes away, “If you need anything holler.”

Gabe just nods and heads inside.

  
  


-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

  
  


John ‘Call me Jack’ Morrison is a creature of habit.

He has a treadmill and gym equipment set up in the glass end of his house. At six pm every day he spends two hours on the treadmill after an hour of lifting, stretching, and raising Gabe’s blood pressure.

Then he downs a bottle of water, disappears into what Gabe assumes is the kitchen, and returns with a shake. He sits with a book on the back porch until about ten, then turns in for the evening. 

Gabe doesn’t see him again until he’s turning around with his coffee in the mornings. Where he spends a decent hour in the shower, bathing and bringing himself off to a euphoric finish every time.

Gabe thinks, sure, he should be tired of watching this same routine every day for three weeks. But he isn’t. And he feels like a creep.

But the window is right there. In the  _ shower _ . Where anyone could traipse down the property line and watch Jack’s mouth part around a moan that Gabe would sell his left nut to hear.

He should suggest Jack get a curtain. Or to just block the window in completely, because who the  _ hell _ puts a window in a shower?!

  
  


-0-0-0-0-0-0-

  
  


John ‘Call me Jack’ Morrison is  _ very _ flexible with his self-sex life.

Gabe is now at the point in his own, three months into this horrible obsession, where he can relax into the cabinet with his coffee and watch Jack in the shower. Where once he stared out at the vibrant, snow capped range he paid good money for, he now watches white suds sluice down acres of pale, muscled skin.

He’s past shame now. Which should be a sign, but instead, he sips at his coffee and enjoys his free morning show.

This morning is very different and that makes Gabe stand up a little straighter and narrow his gaze.

Jack steps away from the shower and out of sight for a hot second after finishing up his normal wash. There are still suds lingering on parts of his shoulder blades, the base of his neck, sinking low and slow down to the crack of his ass -

Where he has a vibrant red vibrater pushing between those round cheeks.

Gabe’s mouth drops open around his coffee mug and his stomach does a flip that would do the olympics proud.

Jack takes his time with it. In and out, eyes clenched shut and obviously fucking himself up to his toes, because Gabe can see his entire cock jerking with every thrust. He has a fist curled around a metal towel rod beside the showerhead and Gabe gets to see him spray across the bricked wall.

He downs the rest of his coffee while Jack laughs to himself and finishes up the shower before disappearing to do whatever he does while Gabe’s at work all day.

Come to think of it, Gabe doesn’t even know where Jack works. Or if he works.

Gabe sets his mug in the sink and thinks:

_ Maybe it’s time to invite him over for dinner. _

  
  


-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

John ‘Call me Jack’ Morrison is smarter than Gabe gave him credit for.

Gabe takes the piping hot lasagna from the oven and sets it on the cooling rack sitting on his stove. He checks the temperature, then his watch to make sure he’ll knock just in time for Jack to be engrossed in a novel instead of going to sleep.

He pulls a hoodie over his head and jogs around Jack’s stupid fence to get to the front gate. Jesse starts barking before he makes it halfway up the walk and Gabe hears Jack’s exasperated ‘Calm down it’s probably just a racoon’.

Gabe hovers his knuckles on the blue finish of Jack’s front door and wonders if this is a good idea.

It’s not.

How did he even begin? ‘Hello. I’ve been watching you masturbate through that convenient shower window across from my kitchen. You bought my favorite view and then replaced it with another one. Thanks!’

Gabe drops his chin with a groan.

The door unlocks and clicks open, “Gabe?” Jack questions.

He jerks his head back up and clears his throat, “I made lasagna.”

Jack blinks and Jesse tries to squeeze between his legs. He looks comfortable in his white hanes shirt and zebra print pants.

Gabe’s heart does that traitorous squeeze thing that makes his throat clog up.

He takes a breath, “I made more lasagna than I’ll be able to eat alone. Wanted to see if you were up for sharing a bite?” He winces, “Or did I wake you?” Like he didn’t already know exactly where Jack was.

Jack is quiet for a moment longer and Gabe is about ready to cash in his chips and walk away when, “Would you like a tour of the house?”

“Uh. Sure?” He frowns, “The lasagna will get cold.”

Jack hums, “We can reheat it.” He waves Gabriel inside, “Come on.”

Gabe follows, eager to see the inside of the house he’s been fuming at for most of the year. Except Jack doesn’t stop to show him the odd shaped living room or the small door leading to a farm barn red kitchen or the glass encased gym beyond. No. He wraps his hand around a door handle and pops it open to reveal a master bedroom.

He keeps going ahead of Gabe. Doesn’t say ‘Oh here is my gigantic california king with 10000 count cotton sheets or the old, hand-me down looking dresser’. No. He goes to  _ another _ door on the far end of the room and opens it as well.

Gabe is pretty sure he’s going to end up murdered, but he keeps walking until he freezes in the doorway of the bathroom.

_ The  _ bathroom.

The one with the window.

Crap.

“Why is there a window?” Gabe manages to choke out, attempting to play it cool, like he hasn’t been watching Jack get off in this very shower for the last three months.

“This was originally supposed to be the gym.” Jack says, “But the plumbing downstairs was on this side of the house and to keep everything in one place and save me a few thousand dollars, we put the master suite here.” A soft chuckle, “But the first window frame had been built in, so I was stuck with a window in my shower.”

Jack knows.

Gabe seriously hopes Jack does plan on murdering him.

Because he  _ knows _ that Gabe’s been watching him. Every morning. With his stupid cup of coffee and his straining dick, Jack  _ knew _ .

“It’s a nice shower.” Gabe wants to bury himself.

“It is.” Jack agrees, his voice light. The hand that glides up the center of his back and curls at the back of his neck is anything but, “Would you like to fuck me in it?”

Gabe gives one sharp nod, “Yes.”

  
  
  


-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

  
  


Jack Morrison is the best lover Gabe’s ever had.

Which is a completely biased assumption, considering it’s only their first time doing this.

Jack is so eager. So willing.

His biceps strain as he holds himself up against the wall, water spraying hard down his flexing back. Gabe holds on to his hips and braces his feet on the slick floor as he gives Jack exactly what he’s asking for.

“Harder.” Jack snaps, “Faster -  _ God _ -.”

Gabe slaps a hand over one of Jack’s shoulders and slams inside. It sends Jack’s head back, hair wet and dark gold. Jack gasps, hips jerking and thighs shaking with the weight of another body to compensate for.

He’s been waiting three months to hear what Jack sounds like when he comes.

It’s even better than he imagined.

And for that throaty, drawn out sound to carry Gabe’s name with it? He comes just from that alone, mouth closing at the base of Jack’s neck and a hunger finally sated.

They shower together afterwards. Jack shows him the shelves full of various body washes, all designed to lather up good a thick. He also kisses Gabe under the spray of water, both of their hair dripping with soap and mouths tasting of it too.

When they’re dried off, Jack lets him borrow some sweats and a hoodie. They grab Jesse from where he’s passed out on Jack’s bed and together they stroll over to Gabe’s house.

It still smells like lasagna and Gabe’s stomach rumbles at the scent, so ready to eat after their recent activities.

Jack beats him to the kitchen though and goes directly to the cabinet where Gabe keeps his plates. He takes out two, then opens the drawer where his silverware is, then snatches a spoon from Gabe’s little ceramic holder.

“Uh -.” Gabe hovers near the stove.

Jack turns around and winks, “You’re not the only one who’s been watching.”

  
  


 

 

**End**

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> It's literally less than 3k of nonsense because I needed a break from my big bang.
> 
> Thank you for the continued support, comments, and kudos!


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